Psychotic Polity
by Riot-Artist
Summary: There's a new guest at the party: and she's not sure how she got there, exactly. Soon after she wakes, she encounters a handsome teenager around her age who brings her comfort and anxiety at the same time. Will she find out his secret psychosis, and will she care? Or will she be so far-gone that she agrees with him? AU (because Kizami's alive). OC.


I do not own Corpse Party.

Today, I couldn't remember anything. My memory eluded me, and whenever I tried to think about the morning, a white light flashed behind my eyes and my temples pulsed in agony. All I knew was that I was alone, I was sitting on a very hard and dusty wooden floor, and my skin was crawling from how thick the air was in the room. It looked to be the size of a classroom, and if I was concentrating enough I could make out small desks scattered haphazardly around the large area. Chairs were toppled over, desks grimy and crooked, compiled around large holes in the floors.

My uniform skirt clung to my upper thighs, while my white button-down seemed to be suffocating me. I could faintly recognize blood on my fingertips, yet I couldn't spot any injuries on my body. Not on my arms, legs, or chest. Just as I was about to stand up, a high-pitched giggling resonated throughout the room and seemed to crawl its way into my ears, nestling itself in my inner ear and echoing throughout my entire body. That laughter had to be from children, yet it didn't seem joyous in the least. It almost seemed malicious in intent, as if the children were psychotic.

Slowly, the laughter stopped as I stood. I walked towards the door, the floor underneath my feet creaking with every step. Papers were scattered all over the floor, some ripped or covered in blood. Any splatters of blood made the ink illegible and some papers were stuck together so much that it all seemed to be one thick paper - impossible to distinct one page from the other.

Walking out of the room and into the hallway, shivers ran up my arms and my chest tightened in either fright or anticipation - I wasn't entirely sure which at the moment. More papers littered the halls, covered in more blood and dust. I tried to walk where the floors looked stable, and in that moment I was grateful that the hallway was lighter than whatever classroom I was just in. Looking down the hallway, I saw a body sitting on a chair and made my way over. Somehow, before I even saw it, I knew it was a corpse. I couldn't explain why, I just sort of had a feeling. A feeling of dread and sorrow for whoever it was, a feeling of despair and lack-of-hope, that soon enough I would be just as dead as the being in front of me.

Her hair was curly brown and medium in length, caked in blood with some bald spots here and there. The entirety of her bottom jaw was ripped off, the teeth in her top jaw yellow and falling out, splattered in her own dried blood. Looking closely, I saw her jaw sitting in her lap, the dried out tongue shriveled and severed: the tip was missing, looking as if it had been cut off. No other wounds except for minor cuts could be seen, so I assumed the cause of death was blood-loss. Her uniform was green with hints of pink and white, kind of pretty, if it weren't drenched in blood and covered with chunks of something.

Sighing, I turned and was met with what was most likely the most beautiful sight in my life. Standing at six-foot-one, approximately, with a head of longish black hair that made his silver-gray eyes glow in the darkness. My eyes traveled down his figure to his shoulders - wide and broad - with one maroon colored jacket slung over his yellow-white colored button down that seemed to be tailored to enhance the fine lines of his torso. Dark gray pants covered his mile-long legs, ending in dark shoes. The way he carried himself screamed masculinity and gracefulness. He was simply, sinfully handsome.

His eyes seemed to be affixed to mine, which appeared to be mirror-like in the right light. My eyes were silver, and I was always told they shined like mirrors in the sun. Then, those eyes travelled down slowly to the silver pendant on my uniform, as if he was entranced.

I didn't have a chance to say anything, I was too enraptured by those eyes. Blood was splattered over his clothes and on his face, but they barely registered in my mind. A lot of questions were in my head, too many to even decide which was more important. It didn't help that I had no recollection of my life prior to this place.

"Did you get trapped in here too?" The man before me asked, his head tilted to the side slightly in question like a pug.

Words were sitting at the tip of my tongue, yet my mouth wouldn't open. I just stood there staring ahead, frozen in place.

"Do you know where you are? Or what you did to get here?" He asked, taking a step towards me. Reacting without thinking, I took a step back, only to hear a _squish _sound. Stumbling over my own feet, I moved back and lifted my shoe up to see I had stepped on an eye. Fear racked my body as I saw the pile of destroyed eyeball on the floor and spread over the bottom of my foot.

My attention was drawn up, to where a corpse lay. Its mouth was agape, as if mid-scream, and only had one eye in its head. The spot where its other eye should have been lay a bloody, dark hole. Its arm was extended, palm outstretched as if it was reaching for the lost organ.

As I looked at the body, every nerve in my body stood on edge as I saw the only eye left staring directly at me with a flat and detesting look. Its mouth was moving rapidly as if reciting a silent incantation, while a ringing overtook my ears and echoed throughout my brain, impossibly loud and painful. Slowly, the ringing became whispers which became coherent words:

_'Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye. Give me back my eye._

_Give me _your _eye.'_

My heart stuttered and jumped to my throat as my back hit the wall hard. My hands covered my ears and I yelled "stop it!" and "shut up shut up shut up!" over and over again. Falling to my knees, the pain in my head intensified and one of my eyes was burning to the point where I actually thought it had caught fire.

At some point, my screams became incoherent and unintelligent: just random babbles or sounds.

Now, the ringing along with his words increased in volume and repetition, threatening to take any shred of sanity I had to offer.

_'Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.'_

My brain was pounding against my skull as if it was trying to bust out of my head. The words echoed throughout my entire being and turned my blood cold. Soon, my limbs became as heavy as lead and my fingers numb. I could feel my heart racing at a mile a minute, but it seemed that the faster my heart beat, the louder the sounds became.

"No. No. No. No!"

Everything stopped all at once as a large hand laid across my shoulder. My whole body jumped from shock and I looked up to see the tall man I had met. I had forgotten all about him when I looked at the corpse. Even though I was unsure about what was happening I felt my heart calm at his touch.

When our eyes met, I saw a few emotions in his eyes that I needed to see in that moment, and the most important one was understanding. He seemed to know what was happening - or at least had a good idea - right then, and I was grateful for it. Grasping his outstretched large hand, I pulled myself up with his help, and brushed my legs and back off. I felt dirty and uncomfortable, and was in desperate need of a bath. I knew there was a high possibility of no running water in this place, yet I was still hopeful.

Walking side-by-side down the long corridor, neither of us spoke as we passed body after body: girls and boys, short and tall, fresh and old, whole and broken. One boy in particular caught my attention. He was about average height for a highschooler, with medium length hair and large brown eyes that were glued to the ceiling. His uniform was a white button-down and black trousers. Both arms were missing, cut off at the elbow. His body rested on the walkway between both buildings, his body moldy from constantly getting rained on. Beside his leg was a small scrap of paper that appeared to be ripped on one of the short edges.

Suddenly, light flashed behind my eyes as I remembered a paper doll in my best friend Akane's hands, with bright eyes that sparkled with excitement as she babbled on and on about some charm she found online. I vaguely remembered pulling the doll apart, then everyone around me collapsing.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the slip of paper.

"Probably his Sachiko-Ever-After paper doll scrap."

I looked at the man beside me, my face twisted in confusion.

"It's a charm you have to do to end up in this place."

_Charm. Paper doll. Scrap._

"_Guys? If this is a joke it's not funny! Stand up! Akane! Kasumi! Nao! Akira!" I called my best friends names one by one, but still none of them moved. _

_After trying to get my friends to move failed, a woman in a white shirt with a snapped neck appeared in front of me, her hazy eyes trained on me. "She likes you."_

"_Who? Who on earth are you?!"_

"_Sa-chan's coming. You'll play with her. Make her happy."_

_Her voice was quiet and unwavering, yet she didn't move._

"_Won't you make my darling daughter happy? She's seven, you know. Not a day older. She died for me."_

_I couldn't fathom why this ghost - I was almost certain with that neck she wasn't alive - was telling me about her daughter. Why did I care? Apparently, she's dead! I had my friends to worry about! But, in that moment, I couldn't move. I couldn't talk and could barely breathe._

"_And you'll die for her."_

Gasping, I woke up covered in sweat. I was laying on a cot in the corner of a small room, with the man from earlier sitting in a chair at my bedside. The room had several cabinets lined with medical equipment and another stringy pile of something - Christ, what was that? Hair? - that rested along the back wall. A desk with a notebook laying open on top of it sat in between two of the cabinets. A white sheet hung up in the middle of the room, blood splatters and another unidentifiable substance covered the sheet, in reality making it not-so-white.

"Awake, are you?" A deep voice at my side caught my attention and I turned to its owner, whom was leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees.

I nodded, rubbing my throbbing head.

"You were pale earlier."

"I…remembered how I got here, kind of."

"Really?" He visibly perked up, sitting a bit straighter in the seat.

"Somehow, I don't think it was normal."

After I told him of the flashback I had, he suggested we walk around some more. Corpses still lined the majority of the halls and rooms inside the school, some were just bones while others still had their flesh attached. I recognized some of the uniforms that were in my area, while others were completely new to me. It was intriguing to see how some died - fell to their death from the floor above, stabbed, decapitated, hung, hit in the head, etc. Age varied as well: middle school, high school, elementary, some even appeared to be private colleges.

One corpse had a similar uniform on as my companion, except his jacket was on and I could get a good look at their crest. _Byakudan Senior High School. _That school was just down the street from mine, but it was too expensive and exclusive for me to get in. Glancing at the man beside me, I thought that either he was really smart or really wealthy. Hell, maybe both.

The boy that laid dead on the ground had short brown hair which spiked up a bit, a lean face, and medium-sized gray-brown eyes. I bent down and looked at his torso, running my fingertips over several knife wounds.

A voice pierced the air. It sounded male. The owner seemed to be in extreme pain or dying at that moment.

It wasn't nonsense that I heard. It wasn't random babbles or repeated phrases. It wasn't a tragic story or a chilling recollection.

It was a name.

A name that contained six syllables, two letters apiece.

"_Ki-za-mi!"_


End file.
